


Stepping Up

by fabulously_frenzied



Series: Miraculous, My Way [5]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Identity Reveal, Multi, Post-episode: s02e25 Mayura
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-01-25 16:43:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 18,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21359404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fabulously_frenzied/pseuds/fabulously_frenzied
Summary: Tom and Sabine knew their daughter is special. What they didn't know washowspecial.After the events of Heroes' Day, Marinette decides to take matters into her own hands, turning the tables to finally end this fight once and for all.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Alya Césaire/Nino Lahiffe, Sabine Cheng/Tom Dupain
Series: Miraculous, My Way [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1496891
Comments: 62
Kudos: 288





	1. Conference

**Author's Note:**

> Hey frenz! I've had this multi-chapter fic on the back burner since about April, and since the season 3 finale I've finally had the motivation to continue working on it. I would like to establish an update schedule, but as I don't have the entire work planned out yet, I'm putting out this first chapter as a sort of teaser just to get a gauge on what you all think. Your feedback is greatly appreciated!!
> 
> Happy reading :)

“It’s good to see you again, Mme Bustier!” Tom smiles, hugging his wife’s shoulders as they walk into their daughter’s classroom. 

“Oh, _please,_ call me Caline! I’ve had the pleasure of knowing you and your daughter too long for you two to keep addressing me so formally,” Caline responds, returning Tom’s infectious smile. The couple seats themselves in the chairs in front of the teacher’s desk, knowing quite well at this point how these conferences go. “As I’m sure the two of you are well aware, Marinette is easily one of the brightest and most creative students I’ve ever had. She’s quite the positive force in our class, and it’s clear to me she’s the one binding us all together.”

“We are very proud of our daughter,” Sabine beams. Tom vigorously nods his assent and squeezes his wife’s hand. 

“However, I am a bit concerned,” Caline says. Their smiles morph into expressions of complacency, and perhaps a little annoyance. 

“Yes, we’re aware. Our daughter’s attendance rate has been less than ideal this year,” Tom explains. “Honestly, we don’t know what’s gotten into her! She’s always been such a responsible student, and we don’t have any clue as to why her performance here has dropped!” He nearly knocks Sabine’s head clean off with his wild gestures, but his wife barely flinches. 

“We’ve noticed some problems at home, too,” Sabine adds. “She’s always so tired now, even though we send her to bed at a reasonable time. She’s forgetful of even the things we always thought important to her, like dates with her friends, and we feel like she’s always scrambling to get out the door or finish a project. We don’t know what’s happened to our girl.” She leans her head on Tom’s arm, frowning. 

“Oh,” Caline begins. Sabine looks up at her husband, suddenly nervous. “Oh,” she repeats, realization budding in her eyes. “So you two...”

“What? Is there a problem with our little girl?” It’s almost a miracle that Tom hasn’t crushed every bone in his wife’s hand with how hard he’s squeezing it now. 

“So you don’t know,” Caline finishes. She watches her guests share a confused and very concerned glance before their troubled eyes find their way back to her own. She sighs. “I suppose there’s no point in beating around the bush. Tom, Sabine... your daughter’s a hero.”

“We know!” Tom flails, and this time it actually takes effort for Sabine to not fall out of her chair. “She’s the sweetest, most generous person we know! But we still don’t know what’s wrong!”

“No, Tom, I mean... I mean, yes, obviously I agree, your daughter is an absolute delight. But I didn’t mean hero figuratively. I meant she’s literally the hero of Paris.”

Sabine blanches. Tom freezes. Neither knows what to say next. 

“Have you noticed Marinette’s... _habits_ only just started occurring back in September? She’s never had those problems before. You know what else we didn’t have before? Ladybug,” she finishes, leaning back in her seat. She can’t gauge their reactions. It feels like time has stopped, despite the incessant ticking of the clock on the wall behind her. 

“Our little girl...” Tom breathes, and it looks for a moment that he might pass out. Or hyperventilate; one of the two. Sabine hugs his arm like if she were untethered to him she might float off the face of the planet. “Our little girl... Ladybug... oh, my God.”

“It makes so much sense,” Sabine mumbles. “And it explains those weird noises we hear on the roof in the middle of the night, too. I guess there’s no need to call the plumber anymore!” She laughs, but it’s more out of disbelief than humor. “We always thought there was just some faulty pipe! It makes so much sense! Our daughter is Ladybug! Our daughter—“ She can’t seem to find her voice anymore, the gravity of this new reality pulling her back down to earth and kicking her mothering instincts into overdrive. She yanks Tom’s arm, trying to shake him out of his stupor. “Tom, our daughter has been _putting herself in danger!”_

“I know this must be quite a large shock for you, and I understand and share your worry.” Caline leans forward again, reaching for them reassuringly. “But I promise you I am here to do anything and everything I can to help. She and her friends have had a lot on their plates recently, and I know how much you care for each of them as well.”

“Friends?” Tom starts to ask when his wife gasps and starts shaking his arm again, this time pointing frantically through the window of the classroom door to a poster in the hallway leftover from Heroes’ Day. 

Ladybug.  
Chat Noir.  
Rena Rouge.  
Carapace.  
Queen Bee.

The dots fall into place.  
Now Tom actually does pass out. 

Both women rush to him, neither soon enough to prevent him from falling out of his seat and onto the floor. The whole room shakes when he lands with a loud _thud._ His eyes snap open and he shoots upright, startling both Sabine and Caline off of him. 

“It’s them! It’s always been them! God, I can’t believe—” He’s almost shouting. His wife helps him to his feet and the teacher lays a gentle hand on his back. 

“Shhh,” Caline says, reminding Sabine of the voice she’d use to comfort her daughter when she was a child. “If you two didn’t know, I don’t think anybody else did, and I believe it best if things stayed that way.”

“Right. Right,” Tom lowers his voice, but he’s shuddering and his breathing is shaky. “Right. You’re right.” He could hardly process anything else to say. “Right. Nobody else can know. Nobody can know. Nob—Caline?”

“Yes?”

“Do they even know?”

“What do you mean, Tom?”

“I mean do they know each other? And do they know that you know?” Tom splutters. His wife looks at her anxiously. She’s been taking this very calmly, but her expression looks as though one more shock might crack her completely. 

“I don’t know the answer to your first question, but I imagine they don’t,” she answers. “Nobody else seems to have connected the dots, although I think once upon a time, Alya got rather close before learning firsthand the importance of a secret identity. As for the second, no; I have not told them that I know anything. I suppose I probably should let them know individually, but I have made it clear to them I am here for whatever and whenever they need.”

“I’m glad, Caline,” Sabine says weakly, a smile, though faint, finding its way back onto her face. “I know our daughter and her friends are in the best hands with you.”

“Thank you, Sabine. And I’ll offer you two the same: if you ever need anything, you know where to find me. Actually, here—” she jogs back behind her desk and shuffles around, eventually producing some stationary and a pen— “let me give you my number. I get the sense,” she mutters, biting the cap off the pen, “that’s it’s probably a good idea to keep in touch.” She finishes scribbling and hands the note to them, smiling. “If there’s anything I can do—”

“We’ll call. Thank you so much, Caline.” Tom’s eyes bore into hers, a hopeful smile finally creeping its way back onto his face as well. 

“Anything. I mean it,” she replies, placing a hand on both parents’ shoulders. “Marinette truly is a pleasure to have in class. Thank you for sharing your daughter with me.”

“And thank you for keeping her safe,” Sabine returns. They wave at the teacher and head out the door.


	2. Decision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette meets up with her partner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fridays it is, for now, I guess. I'm so excited to get this story out there, but that means I have to continue writing beyond what I have saved so far, so... we'll see how this plays out.
> 
> Once again, your feedback is greatly appreciated!

“Hey, Chat,” Ladybug says into her communicator. “I have to talk to you about something, so… I guess, just let me know when you’re free and we can meet up. Call me later when you get this. Thanks.”

She puts her yo-yo back on her waist, walks toward the edge of the rooftop where she’s been pacing, and crouches on the ledge. Sighing, she gazes over the skyline. “Adrien’s leaving on a trip to London with Kagami, Chat didn’t pick up…” She swings her legs over the edge of the roof and leans back, covering her face with her hands as she thinks. “He’s been asking for this ever since we met, and it’s the _one time he doesn’t pick up?”_ She chuckles dryly. “I bet he would run all the way here if he could. Whatever. I’ll tell him whenever we get to meet up again. I—huh?” Something’s prodding at her hands, and she removes them from her face to find Wayzz trying to get her attention. “Wayzz? What’s going on?”

He beckons her to follow, and she swings toward the Guardian’s parlor.

  


* * *

  


Chat had disappeared almost immediately after their fight with Backwarder, but agreed to meet Ladybug later that evening at their favorite perch atop the Tour Eiffel.

“So, Bugaboo, what’s up?” He asks playfully once they sit down. Noticing the lack of amusement on her face, he shrinks a little. “Sorry. What did you want to talk about, LB?”

“No, you don’t have to apologize. It’s just,” she shrugs, looking for the correct way to phrase her thoughts, “sometimes when you’re goofing off and calling me nicknames, it just feels like you’re not taking me seriously. But!” She amends when his shoulders slump. “But! I know that the humor is a part of you and I won’t try to take it away. That would be wrong. It’s just a little distracting sometimes is all. Anyway,” she begins, taking a deep breath and exhaling fully before continuing, “this is really important, and it wasn’t something I wanted to tell you over the phone.”

“You’re breaking up with me?” Chat gasps in mock-horror, clasping his hands over his heart. She narrows her eyes at him and he relaxes. “Right. Distracting. Please continue,” he requests, sweeping his arm forward.

“Okay. I know what I’m about to say is gonna be a lot to take in, so, please, just hear me out until I’m done, all right?” Her partner nods, and she takes another deep breath in and out. “I think we should reveal our identities.” At his sudden gasp, she holds up a hand. “Bear with me, _chaton._ I know it might not seem like the wisest choice after what happened on Heroes’ Day, but I really believe this is our best option. We know now that Hawk Moth isn’t alone, and whoever he’s working with clearly knows who he is and he knows who they are. So,” she looks him straight in the eye, “I’ve talked to Master Fu. He doesn’t believe it’s a good idea, and both he and my kwami keep citing Rena and Carapace and Queen Bee as evidence not to do it. With the five of us, we might outnumber them, but we’re still the ones at a disadvantage if we can’t fully know and trust each other. And unless we know each other in and out of the suits, we can’t do that. We can’t win.” She pauses briefly, takes one more deep breath, then relaxes. “Okay. I’m done.”

For a moment, all Chat does is stare blankly as he processes her words. Then: “Okay… okay, yeah. I think I see your point. And I don’t mean to sound like another naysayer, because really, I’m excited! But are you certain this will be a benefit rather than a detriment? What if one of us gets akumatized?” It’s the most serious she can remember ever seeing him, and she’d be lying if she said it’s not extremely refreshing. She smiles.

“As long as we know we have each other, we’re stronger already than any power Hawk Moth tries to offer us with an akuma. Even if there’s something like a repeat of Dislocœur—which, even though I hate Hawk Moth with every fiber of my being, I actually have to give him credit for a really clever strategy there—we’ll know we’ve got each other’s backs. We can do this, _chaton._ Getting stronger as a team won’t happen immediately, but knowing each other inside and out is the first step.”

She watches him ponder for a moment, before he speaks up again. “Okay. I already trust you with my life, LB. I know you’d never let me down, and you can bet I’d never let you down either. I’m ready to know you, and I’m ready to _finally_ kick Hawk Moth’s butt.” He smirks, and she can feel her smile getting wider.

“There’s my kitty,” she says, mussing his hair a bit before getting to her feet and offering her hand to him. When he takes it and stands, she asks, “On the count of three?”

He nods, closing his eyes. “One.”

“Two.” She closes hers.

“Three,” they say in unison, and let their transformations fall, still hand in hand. They open their eyes, and Marinette nearly falls off the tower when she sees who’s holding her hand.

“I’m an idiot,” Adrien says, laughter seeping into his voice. “I called you our ‘everyday Ladybug’ at that picnic! You’re not just an everyday Ladybug, you _are_ Ladybug!” He slaps a hand to his forehead, and it snaps Marinette out of her stupor.

_“You’re_ the idiot?! I gave you a prescription for constipation pills just this morning because I wasn’t paying attention to what note I gave you! That was for someone else!”

“I don’t know, _princess,”_ he croons in a way that is all too Chat Noir, “you seemed like _something_ was definitely bothering you earlier. By the way, I spent all my downtime in London looking for these, so I hope you appreciate them,” he smirks, fishing a prescription bag from inside his satchel and handing it to a very wide-eyed Marinette.

“You stupid cat!” She shoves him playfully. “Why on earth do you think I would want you to spend your entire trip looking for something like that?” They’re both laughing so hard that they can barely see, and for the first time since all this Miraculous nonsense started, everything felt _right._

“Wait,” Adrien wheezes, trying to suppress his laughter long enough to properly speak again, “wait, wait, wait, wait, wait—if you didn’t mean to give me the prescription, what _were_ you going to give me?”

Marinette stops laughing abruptly. “Uh. Well, you see, um… promise you won’t laugh?”

“I would never, m’lady,” he answers, bowing, making her snort.

_Just say it,_ she thinks. _You’ve already made it this far._ “So, y’see, uh… it was a love letter!”

“A _what?”_

“A love letter! You were traveling to London with Kagami and I thought it might have been my last chance to tell you how I feel before you two spend an entire trip together and fall in love and forget all about me—” 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow down, princess!” Adrien gently places his hands on Marinette’s shoulders to steady her. “I didn’t get to read your letter, which I’m sure was lovely, but I’m here now, so… tell me how you feel.”

She looks down, taking another deep breath just like before. Gathering her courage, she looks him in the eye and says, “I love you, Adrien Agreste. You’ve been nothing but kind to me since the day we met, even when I thought you were just another bully like Chloé. You’re kind and selfless and funny, and I’m sorry I’ve been pushing you away this whole time. I knew how you felt about me, but I was hung up on… well, _you.”_ She braces herself, waiting for him to laugh or make fun of her or tell her he loves someone else.

“Marinette,” and she swears she’s never heard his voice so soft before, “I love you, too. I know you never took my flirting seriously, but it was all true. And, if I’m honest with myself, I fell in love with Marinette the moment she gave me a second chance, and I felt so _wrong_ inside for loving two girls at once, but now—” He laughs, and it’s the most beautiful thing she’s ever heard. “For once, everything just feels _right,_ you know?”

She’s this close to crying, and for the first time in a long time, she lets herself do it as she pulls Adrien into her arms. “Yeah. I know.”

  


* * *

  


They stand in peaceful silence for what feels like an eternity, clinging onto each other like they’re the only thing tethering the other to reality. Their muscles are getting sore from holding one another so tightly, and Marinette’s starting to get an ache in her neck from burying her head into Adrien’s arms. Both relieved and reluctant, she pulls away, looking into his deep green eyes for a moment until an unbidden thought flashes through her mind and she looks away.

“I… I should apologize to you.”

“What?” He asks. “What for?”

She looks down, furrowing her brows as she tries to figure out how to verbalize what she wants to say. “I, um, I guess—I haven’t exactly been honest with you?” At his confused expression, she adds, “Not as Ladybug, as m-me. As Marinette.”

“What do you mean?” He still looks confused, but patient, and it gives her the strength to continue.

“I had this rampant crush on you. And I mean _rampant,_ and… because of it, I did some things that, uh, that aren’t r-really… okay.” Her breathing starts to quicken, and she feels him squeeze her hand and it grounds her. Gently, he leads them back down to sitting. “For starters, I guess, um, I had this giant schedule in my room that kept track of all the different things you did, and when—”

“Not _everything,_ though,” he interjects, winking.

“No, I guess you’re right about that! Still, it had what you were doing and where you would be at any given point and for how long and… yeah. And that’s just the schedule. There was one time Alya pressured me into trying to call you and tell you how I feel, and I ended up accidentally sending you this really, really embarrassing voicemail, and, uh, I-I was like, um, ‘I have to delete that!’ So… I snuck into the locker room and broke into your locker and got out your phone to delete the message, but I couldn’t figure out how to do that before you came back, so I just ended up stealing your phone for a little while, eh heh…” She chuckles nervously, not wanting to look him in the eyes just yet.

“Oh, so _that’s_ why I couldn’t find my phone that day. I just thought Plagg was trying to play some weird prank on me, but—hey, wait, where is that little jerk?” He looks around the two of them, and eventually spots the kwamis perched upon a higher beam in the tower. “Ah, it’s probably been a while since they’ve talked. Besides, any moment he’s not bellyaching about being starved for cheese is a moment I will appreciate more than you know.”

From above them, Marinette just barely makes out an _“I can hear you, ya know!”_ and nearly falls off the tower laughing with Adrien.

She lets her breath come back to her, sighs, and figures she has to keep going at this point. He hasn’t left yet, right? “Anyway, I just… I wanted to say I’m sorry. I’m sorry for-for stealing your phone and being a gigantic stalker. I know you put up with enough of that kind of stuff as it is from other fans, and the last thing I want is to be another one of them. So I’m s-sorry. I w-would understand if, uh, if you hate me now, or something, or, um…”

“Marinette, I could never hate you.” She looks into his eyes for the first time since she started talking, and sees nothing but sincerity in them. “And I forgive you, okay? I mean, we’ve both got our fair share of dirty laundry. I kept flirting with you during battle even when I knew the timing was inappropriate or it was making you frustrated or uncomfortable, and I did it anyway. I never listened when you asked me to stop, and I acted like a child when you wouldn’t make me a part of your life the way I wanted you to. So _I’m_ sorry, okay? I should have respected your boundaries, and I didn’t. I hope you can forgive me, but—”

“Silly kitty,” she smiles, squeezing his shoulders from the side, “of course I forgive you. And, please, believe me when I say it would make me the happiest girl on the planet to go on a date with you—” and goodness, she adores the way his face lights up when she says that, “—but I can’t commit to something like that right now, okay? I love you so much, more than anyone in the world, but we’ve got a lot going on right now. I just found out who you are, and you just found out who I am, and sometime soon we’re going to do a whole team reveal, and after that we’ve got to start training and investigating and planning how we’re going to take down Hawk Moth, and—”

“Shh, it’s okay,” he whispers. “I get it. I love you, too, and I also want a relationship. But yeah, we’ve got a lot going on right now, and I don’t want to add any more to our plate than I have to. So, as long as you’ll still have me, I’m happy to wait for you, Marinette.”

She loses herself in his words, sighing dreamily at the thought of finally being in a relationship with Adrien Agreste. “Really?” She breathes.

He leans over and presses a gentle peck to her forehead, gazing lovingly into her eyes. “For you, Marinette, I’d wait until the stars burn down and you’re the only light I can see anymore.”

She melts into him again, and snorts. “Stupid cat.”

“Bugaboo,” he counters, holding her close as they watch the sun set past the Parisian skyline.


	3. Confirmation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom and Sabine arrive home after their conference with Mme Bustier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place before/during the events in chapter 2.

“Marinette? Marinette, sweetie, are you home?” Sabine calls as she closes the apartment door behind her. There’s no response. She turns and shrugs at her husband when she’s startled by the sudden sound of people shrieking outside. They rush to the window to some golden, clock-themed villain, closely pursued by a spotted heroine and her leather-clad companion. A Ferris wheel is meters away from crashing into the Seine. 

“Ah, there she is,” Tom mutters. “I can’t believe we never saw it before. I mean, the only real difference between our daughter and Ladybug is a mask!” He smacks the wall accidentally, having overestimated the range of his gesturing and his proximity to the wall, recoils, and cradles his left hand with his right. 

“Well, there’s got to be some sort of explanation for it, hasn’t there?” Sabine ponders. “I’m positive I’d know our little girl anywhere, even if we were just proven wrong half an hour ago.”

“You think so?”

“Oh, sure. There’s probably something about whatever superhero-magic they have that keeps normal people like us from seeing through their disguises. Something to do with their ‘Miraculous,’ right? What even is that?”

“I think it’s their jewelry. Ladybug has earrings and Chat Noir’s got a ring, I think. Gives them their powers or something. I vaguely remember Hawk Moth demanding that I retrieve them for him when I was akumatized a few weeks ago.” He shudders at the memory. “What do you suppose he even wants them for?”

“I don’t know, dear,” Sabine muses, “but considering this is the villain who’s been terrorizing the city for months on end now, it can’t be anything good.” 

  


* * *

  


Nearly an hour later, after her parents notice a distinct thump from the roof, Marinette stumbles through the trapdoor of her room and down the stairs into the apartment. Tom and Sabine sit on the couch, facing away from her and doing their best not to act like they’ve been waiting for her to show up. 

“Hi, Maman, Papa! Sorry I didn’t hear you come in, I was napping.” Marinette’s stretch is clearly exaggerated, but her yawn seems authentic. Makes sense, they think. Among school, akuma attacks, and nightly patrol, it’s no wonder she’s always so exhausted. “How was your conference with Mme Bustier?” She asks, and her parents can hear the natural truthfulness of her character straining against what they know now to be a diversion from asking where she’s been. 

“Oh, it was just fine, dear,” Tom replies. 

“Yes, it’s always nice to speak with Caline,” Sabine adds. “She speaks so highly of you, you know. Says you’re one of the ‘brightest and most creative students’ she’s ever had. A real pleasure to have in class.”

“Wow.” Their daughter blushes visibly but makes no attempt to hide how flattering she finds the compliment. “Even though I’ve been showing up late to school so much lately? I mean—oops!” She slaps her hands over her mouth, eyes bugging out of her head. Tom and Sabine have to keep themselves from laughing aloud, knowing full well now the reason for Marinette’s tardiness. They smile. 

“Ah, Caline is such a gentle soul.” Tom scratches at the back of his neck. “I think she understands you’re a busy girl with quite a bit on your plate. Besides, I can’t imagine trying to get much anything done on time, what with all the akuma attacks there have been recently.” Sabine nods. That isn’t a lie, not really, considering Caline really does know why her students turn up late, especially in light of the recent attacks. 

“Well, I’m going to grab a snack, and then try to make a dent in my work. I’d hate to destroy Mme Bustier’s trust in me,” their daughter says, shuffling toward the kitchen. “I have a lot to do, and it’s probably going to take all weekend.”

“Let us know if you need anything! We’ll be in the kitchen starting dinner,” Tom calls after her, even though shouting really isn’t necessary given he could cover their entire apartment in two or three good jumps, if the ceiling were high enough. 

“I will!” Her phone buzzes, and they watch her eyes go wide. She whips around, nearly dropping both her phone and the apple she’s grabbed in the process. Regaining her balance, she turns and took the stairs back up to her room two at a time, slamming the trapdoor after her. 

“Do you think—”

“Let’s find out,” Sabine cuts him off, and quietly they tiptoe up the stairs. She presses her ear against the trapdoor as Tom strains anxiously? eagerly? against her. 

From in her room, they can hear Marinette pacing around rather quickly, even though her voice is surprisingly calm. “No, I don’t—” she begins. “I _have_ thought this through, Fu, and we can’t afford to operate like this anymore.”

“Sounds like hero business—also, who’s Fu?” Tom whispers. Sabine turns around immediately to shush him. 

“I do think it’s a good idea!” Marinette’s voice rises. “I know what happened with her and Carapace on Heroes’s Day in front of the Eiffel Tower, okay? I was there! I watched her take that arrow for him, and that’s exactly why this has to happen!”

“What do you think is going on?” Sabine mouths. Tom shakes his head and shrugs. 

“Look, we’re in a far different situation than we used to be, okay? Now we know Hawk Moth has allies, which means being able to understand and communicate with each other takes priority over secret identities. I have to tell them. We can’t let him use us again—” she cuts off. “Fu. You told me just this morning when you thought you were dying that I’d be the new Guardian, and I _know_ that’s not something you can take lightly. I’ve trusted you from the start, but that doesn’t mean I have to agree with your every judgment. I need you to trust _me_ for once on this, as a hero, as a leader, and as future Guardian. If something happens, I will talk to you about it, but I need you to support me. We can’t afford not to trust each other at this point. That’s why I have to do this.” She takes a deep breath, waits a moment or two, then speaks again. “You forget this isn’t your fight anymore, even if you are the Guardian. You gave that up when you passed on that responsibility to some kids who helped you across the street. I—No. Goodbye, Fu.” Her parents, still crouching on the steps, feel chills down their spines from the deadly seriousness in their daughter’s voice. They hear her sigh loudly and slump onto her chaise, followed by a high-pitched sort of squeaking. It almost sounds like... another voice?

“I know, Tikki. But I mean it, we can’t afford the risks. I really do think this is the right choice.” Tom and Sabine look at each other. _Who’s Tikki? Is someone else up there?_ They can’t remember anybody else coming in, and they don’t recognize the name. “Thanks, Tikki. For everything. Especially now. Once we’re united as a team, there’s no way Hawk Moth will ever escape from us again.”

They share a proud smile, but nearly fall off the steps when they hear her start to walk toward the trapdoor. Tom throws open the fridge door, nearly tearing it off its hinges. Sabine fiddles with a switch on the oven to preheat it just as Marinette comes down the stairs. 

“I totally forgot I was supposed to meet Adrien for a, uh, a project! Yeah, this huge project we’re working on. At school. In, uh, in one of our classes. Together,” she stammers, finally managing to squeeze out the excuse, and once again Tom and Sabine can see how much it hurts their daughter to have to lie so much in order to be Paris’s hero. 

“Don’t worry, dear,” Sabine smiles. “Tom and I will just have a nice quiet dinner here. You go meet Adrien. Such a nice boy, he is.”

“Thank you!” She cries, kissing her parents on both cheeks. She runs back upstairs to grab her backpack, to keep up the illusion, of course, and heads for the door. “I’ll see you later!”

“Don’t forget to eat something!” Tom calls, but she’s already slammed the door behind her. They looks at each other again, then trip over each other as they run over to a window facing the Arc. Sure enough, not more than a minute later, they watch Ladybug swing off into the sunset. 

Sabine sighs into her husband. “What are we going to do with her?”


	4. Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Calling all heroes: a rooftop meeting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)

Don’t ask her why, but in the time she’s been Ladybug, Marinette has become a master of pickpocketing. Or, maybe not so much stealing things from pockets and bags as subtly placing things into them. Probably a byproduct of sneaking cookies to Tikki. Don’t bring up the phone incident, though, because she’ll immediately start floundering about and yelling about how “that was _ONE_ time!”

The following Monday, her bag is a little heavier with the weight of three tiny boxes and the jewels they contain. She’s greeted by Alya and Nino, and under the cover of their small talk she slips two of her three boxes into their bags, attached to a note that says _Tour Montparnasse. 19h30. Be discreet._

Chloé’s proves a tad more difficult for the sole reason that, uh, she and Marinette don’t have a reputation of _getting along,_ but she manages to walk to the back of the classroom and sneak all the way down to where Chloé has set her bag in the front row without so much as a second glance from her classmates. She plants the box and its note in her tote bag, and tiptoes quickly away. 

Mission accomplished. Now to wait until this evening.

  


* * *

  


Marinette arrives to the Tour Montparnasse a whole half-hour early, despite her tendency to run late in her civilian life. She shivers, though from nerves rather than cold. She sits down cross-legged, and, out of habit, spreads her fingers and presses her hands together, pushing each pair against each other individually. Squeezing her tension out, she closes her eyes and breathes deeply, calming down.

“Feeling all right, Bug?” Metal boots thud against the roof to her right, and for once she doesn’t so much as flinch at the sudden noise. Without opening her eyes, she can feel him move to sit down beside her.

“Yeah, yeah,” she says, breathing deep again and continuing to push her fingers against each other. “This is gonna be a big night, that’s all.”

“I get it,” he replies, “but hey, what could go wrong?” She can hear the smile in his voice, and it makes her smile, too. “Even if something happens, at least we have each other now.”

“You’re right.” Inhale, exhale. Things are going to work out.

“Mind if I join you?” he asks, and it surprises her just a little.

“I mean, I never took you for the sitting-still type, but sure, kitty.”

They sit comfortably in silence for a while, and through her closed eyes, Marinette can sense the shift in daylight as the sun sets. She feels Chat twitch next to her, which is when she notices a distinct _whirring_. She knows who’s here now and feels no need to open her eyes to look at her.

“So, did you go to all the trouble of sneaking into my school to give me the Bee so we could sit in a circle with our eyes closed?” Marinette can practically hear her rolling her eyes.

“No, Chloé—”

“Queen Bee!” Chloé’s scoff is audible. “Seriously, Ladybug, it’s—” Marinette holds up a hand, eyes still closed, trying not to betray her calm façade with her surprise that the simple motion actually stopped her words.

“We will begin once Rena and Carapace arrive. Until then, would you like to join us in meditating? It’s very relaxing.”

Chloé grumbles for a moment, but Marinette can’t help but smile when she sits down at her left.

The sun has almost completely set by the time the remaining two heroes show up. She finds herself impressed that neither Rena nor Carapace ask any questions, simply sit down with them and complete the circle. Taking one more deep breath, she separates her hands and opens her eyes to greet them.

“Thank you all for meeting us here tonight. I apologize for the short, and, admittedly, suspicious notice. What will happen here tonight is perhaps the most important thing that will ever happen to us as heroes, with the exception of finally taking down Hawk Moth and his new accomplice.

“I have spoken with the Guardian of the Miraculous, the man responsible for keeping and protecting them at all times and the one who gave me my earrings and Chat his ring. Since the beginning of our career as heroes, he’s been very strongly against the idea of us knowing each other’s true identities because he believes that the secrecy will protect us, and that knowing who we really are will put our loved ones in danger. I understand the three of you know from personal experience just why that can, in some cases, be true,” she watches Queen Bee, Rena, and Carapace all shift uncomfortably where they sit, “but I want to remind you that what happened on Heroes’ Day was _not your fault.”_ They look up at her, and she goes on. “Rena and Carapace, you know I would have preferred not to have given you your Miraculous at the same time, but you also know there wasn’t enough time to come up with a solid excuse to separate you. Rena, your desire to protect your companion was noble.” 

“Even though I messed up the plan?” Rena asks, and it pains Marinette to see Alya look so guilty for taking the arrow for her partner. She smiles gently, reassuringly.

“No one can blame you for wanting to protect someone you love, and sacrificing yourself to save him was one of the most heroic things you could have done. Carapace, your reaction toward her akumatization was completely understandable. The same goes for you, Queen Bee, to have watched your parents become akumatized in front of you. It’s not your fault for feeling the way you felt. Not even as heroes can I ask you to shut yourself off from your emotions, because at the end of the day, we’re all just human. The only person to blame is Hawk Moth himself, for stooping so low as to prey on our emotions and making us feel guilty for being ourselves.

“Since Heroes’ Day, we know now that Hawk Moth has an accomplice. His ability to create scarlet akumas that day must have been caused by someone else’s power, because we’ve never seen that ability from him before. I’m led to believe whoever boosted his powers is the same person that created that giant moth creature when we had him cornered at the Tour Eiffel that day, and if not for that person, we would’ve _finally_ had him. Anyway, my point is that clearly, whoever’s helping him knows Hawk Moth in _and_ out of the mask, and he knows them, which, for the moment, gave them an advantage over us.” She looks them each firmly in the eyes. “That changes tonight.”

Carapace gasps. “You don’t mean—”

“Are we _finally_ going to get to know who you are?” Rena interrupts him.

Marinette nods curtly and stands. “The key to winning this fight once and for all is complete and total trust within our team, and the first step is knowing each other inside and out. However, I’m sure I don’t have to remind you all that even though we will all know each other’s identities, you _cannot,_ under _any_ circumstance, reveal yourself or the rest of us to others, because they might tell other people or Hawk Moth could target them and infiltrate us from the inside. Do I make myself clear?”

Rena and Carapace nod vigorously, standing and reaching to hold each other’s hands as they give their assent. Queen Bee says nothing for a moment, then quietly raises her hand.

“Yes, Queen Bee?”

“What about me, Ladybug? I made a mistake, and now everyone knows who I am.” She stands and hugs herself, eyes cast downward.

“I’ve done some thinking, and my ultimate decision is to retire Queen Bee.” At Chloé’s crestfallen face, she adds quickly, “In name only! You will still be the holder of the Bee Miraculous, but no longer under the guise of Queen Bee. We’re going to design a new hero persona for you, with a new look and a new name, but it’ll still be you under the mask. And, because of the Miraculous’s magic, nobody will be able to recognize you.”

“I won’t let you down this time, Ladybug! Oh, this is _great!_ I have to—Pollen, _detransformation.”_ A sparkling yellow light enrobes her for not more than a second, and the team is met with normal Chloé Bourgeois. “Pollen, did you hear? I get to keep being a superhero!”

“That’s wonderful news, my queen!” Pollen chimes, flitting around excitedly as she takes in the other heroes. “And it’s so nice to meet you all!”

“The pleasure is all ours, little bee,” Chat replies, giving his patent bow, causing the kwami to giggle.

Marinette smiles, happy for Chloé’s happiness. She still genuinely believes that, given the chance, Chloé can change for the better. Hopefully, this is the chance she needs. She looks to the two others. “Rena and Carapace, are you ready?”

Rena nods. “I trust you, Ladybug, and I’m _so_ ready to get to know you and Chat!” She turns to Carapace, taking both his hands in hers. “Ready, babe?”

“Ready. _Detransformation,”_ they announce simultaneously, green and orange light cascading around them. The lights flicker out to reveal Alya Césaire and Nino Lahiffe, still holding hands.

_“What?!”_ Chloé nearly screeches. “Ladybug, you picked _them_ to be heroes before you picked _moi?_ They’re just a couple of—” At Ladybug’s glare, she cuts herself off, but smiles ever so slightly, mumbling, “Dorks.”

Marinette feels Chat take her right hand and squeeze it. “You have good taste, Bug! Couldn’t have picked them better myself,” he grins, and Alya and Nino are practically beaming. 

“Okay, it’s your turn now! Nino, I’m so excited! This is, like, a dream come true!” Alya’s bouncing up and down, and Ladybug can’t help but be amused despite her slight anxiety. This is it. 

“Ready when you are, Kitty.”

“Always, Bug. _Detransformation.”_ Anxiously, she watches their faces as light swarms around the two of them and fades away as soon as it had appeared. 

_“DUPAIN-CHENG?!”_ This time, Chloé actually does screech. “This whole time it’s been _you?!_ I can’t _believe_ I’ve been worshipping _you_ this whole time!”

Marinette laughs. “Well, who were you expecting?”

Chloe’s mouth gapes open. “I—you—what—_ugh!”_ She just closes her mouth and huffs, unable to form a sentence in rebuttal. 

She looks over at Alya, whose eyes are wide and smile is even wider, hands pressed together against her chest. Beside her, Nino smirks softly, bobbing his head in a nodding motion.

“Girl!” Alya shouts, running over to the now-unmasked Marinette Dupain-Cheng and nearly knocking her over with a crushing hug. “Of _course_ it’s you! There’s no one else it could be! Oh my god, of course—_merde,_ I think I’m gonna cry. It makes so much sense! Oh, I’m so glad it’s you. Of course it’s you. Oh my God.” She pulls away, holding her best friend by the shoulders. “I’m so freaking proud of you, girl,” she says with the slightest sniffle. “And you chose _me_ to be Rena? Oh my God, girl, I can never thank you enough.” She sniffles again, then looks over at Adrien. “But you, Sunshine—” she puts one hand on her hip, cocking her head and laughing, “you were a _total_ shocker, my friend. I had no idea!” 

Nino walks over to him and slings an arm over Adrien’s shoulders, hugging him from the side. “You’ve been doin’ good work out here, man. I’m proud of you. So,” he says, leaning closer and wiggling his eyebrows, “when are ya gonna ask out my girl Mari?”

Both Adrien and Marinette stiffen a tad at this, sharing a glance before Adrien answers, “Soon, my friend. But I’m sure you can tell Marinette and I have a lot on our plate right now, and a lot of things that have just happened at once, but I will.” He smiles, then meets Marinette’s eyes again. “That is, as long as you’re okay with that?”

“More than okay. But I agree, for right now I’d prefer to take things as they come and save a relationship for when we both actually have time to invest ourselves in it, you know? Like, I don’t want to just give you a little of myself, I want to give you _all_ of me, and if that means waiting until we finish this battle once and for all, then I will.”

“Awwwwww,” Alya coos, hugging her friend tight again. “You two really _are_ perfect for each other!”

Stepping out of the embrace, Marinette spots Chloé inching farther away from the group. Walking toward her, she extends a hand to place on Chloé’s shoulder, causing the other girl to flinch in surprise.

“Hey,” Marinette starts, “look, I know we haven’t really gotten along in the past, but… I chose you again for the Bee for a reason. You know just as well as I do that I could have given the Bee to someone else, but I came back to you. You know why?”

Chloé shakes her head quickly, not meeting her eyes, trying to suppress a sniffle.

“I gave it back to you because I see so much good in you, Chloé. You have been a bully in the past, and it still hurts sometimes to think about some of the things you did to me when we were kids, but I’ve seen the hero in you firsthand. I know you know how to do what’s right when put to the test. You have the ability to change, no matter what you did in your past trying to impress someone else.” Chloé turns her head away from her, but Marinette keeps going. “What I’m trying to say is you don’t have to let what you think other people want from you dictate who you are, okay? And now that you’re going to be the ‘new’ Bee hero, you can start clean. No expectations, no standards, just _you._ Does that sound okay with you?”

For several moments, Chloé says nothing, just staring at the ground with her arms crossed, before she crashes into Marinette with an embrace she willingly accepts.

_“Better_ than okay. So, so much better.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The thing that Ladybug does, where she pushes her fingers together as a method to calm herself down? that's something I do!  
(I also feel significantly calmer after scratching my head/running my fingers through my hair, but 1. Ladybug has significantly more hair than I do, though that was something that never made a difference to me; 2. I imagine the effect wouldn't be the same through the suit, and 3. head scratching is usually associated with Adrien. The thing with pushing her fingers together felt a lot more like a nervous, anxious habit/coping mechanism that Marinette would have.)


	5. Doubt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom and Sabine are still trying to take the news into stride. It's hard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~[bill wurtz jingle](https://youtu.be/xuCn8ux2gbs?t=301)~ _anxiiiiiiiietyyyyy_

Over the next week, Tom and Sabine notice an increase in the frequency that Marinette’s friends visit the bakery for more and more so-called “study sessions.” 

“I mean, it has to be because of what we heard her say, right?” Sabine muses one day in the bakery’s kitchen, kneading a wad of floury dough. “‘We have to tell them.’ What do you think she told them?”

Just then, the hoard of them comes downstairs from the apartment. Chloé, Alya, and Nino all pause to grab a pastry for the road, thanking their friend’s parents once again for their hospitality. Adrien follows shortly after, hanging back to finish some conversation with Marinette before leaving. He, too, reaches for the pastries on the countertop, although he takes more than just one—much to Tom’s delight: “the boy is a stick, _chérie!_ He can’t be eating enough!” he continuously emphasizes behind closed doors. 

On his way out the door, they watch him squeeze their daughter’s hand and plant a quick kiss on her cheek. The shop door jingles closed in front of a blushing Marinette. She turns around, seeming to have forgotten her parents’ presence behind her judging by the way she nearly jumps through the ceiling. 

“Maman! Papa! I, uh—”

“It’s okay, dear. You don’t have to hide from us,” Sabine begins. 

“What? No! I just...”

“Really, Marinette, it’s okay. We’re glad to see you finally get together with Adrien,” Tom explains, trying to hide a smirk. 

“Such a sweet young man.” Sabine hugs his arm, trying to hide a bigger smirk—Tom now owes her €20; Marinette and Adrien had gotten together before they reached _lycée._

“Wait, what do you mean, finally?” Marinette sounds on the verge of an aneurysm. “How long have you—”

“Long enough to know what two hopelessly lovestruck children look like. Don’t worry about us, dear, we’re just going to start making dinner now.”

The girl opens her mouth to say something, closes it, opens it again, then sighs in defeat. She attempts to walk casually toward the stairs, then practically flies when she reaches them, anxious to get out of the awkward situation. Her parents stop holding back their laughter when they hear the slam of the apartment door above them. 

“Did she really not know how obvious they were being?” Tom asks once he catches his breath, laughter subsiding. “And the bet isn’t fair anymore! We didn’t know they were superheroes!”

“Sweethearts are sweethearts,” Sabine shrugs, giggling. “I guess not. I’m glad they finally found each other.”

* * *

Dinner that night is quiet. Tom and Sabine make the executive decision not to press their daughter about her “study sessions” with her friends, as they’ve learned the past couple times it only elicits stuttering excuses from her. After clearing her place and putting her dishes in the sink, Marinette asks to be excused to work on her homework. 

Her parents can’t help but wonder if that’s actually what she intends to do. 

Fifteen minutes later, they decide to check. Crouched on the steps, Tom knocks on Marinette’s trapdoor as gently as he can (which is still louder than Sabine could knock without really trying). There’s no response. Nervously, he creaks the door open just enough to peek into the room. As they suspected, their daughter is nowhere to be seen. 

Tom climbs up into their daughter’s bedroom, then reaches down to help his wife up. He’s only almost forty, but that doesn’t stop them from feeling older than they are sometimes. They suspect their daughter’s antics both, they know now, as a civilian and as a superhero are rewarding them with some premature gray hairs. 

Sabine places herself upon the chaise as her husband leans back on the desk, careful not to knock anything over in the process. “Do you think we should tell her?” she asks. 

“What, that we know? Honey, that would only worry her. You’ve seen the way she—_Ladybug_—stresses over their secret identities. There’s no way her knowing that we know would make her feel any better!”

“I know, but...” she starts. She folds her hands in her lap and looks down at them. “But doesn’t it just feel dishonest? To keep this a secret from her?”

“You mean the same way our daughter’s been keeping this a secret from us?” There’s an edge to his voice that makes Sabine’s eyes snap up to glare at him. 

“It’s for our safety, Tom, it has to be! You saw on Heroes’ Day how dangerous Hawk Moth has gotten! They know it now too! These heroes, they—they, they’re just _kids!_ They shouldn’t have to worry about crazy supervillains or carrying the weight of the whole city of Paris on their shoulders! They should be worrying about tests and what their friends are doing next weekend and whether or not their crushes are into them, not _this!_ They could get themselves _killed_ out there! Just look what it’s done to our Marinette!” She throws her arms around in a gesture to the room. 

Her eyes are wet, her face fuming. Her breaths become short and ragged—almost hyperventilating. Tom recognizes this scene, has been there to tie her back to earth at least a hundred times since they first met. Anxiety attacks are not uncommon for his wife, but they’ve only increased in frequency since the beginning of Hawk Moth’s terror. Once in a blue moon, her episodes would become nearly all-consuming for her, and he can’t blame her: some of those akumatized villains really were scary, and even he feared for his life and those of his friends and family when the especially dangerous ones hit. He’s watched Chat Noir—_Adrien_—throw himself in the face of danger for Ladybug’s sake, and how even though he knows his daughter knows she can bring him back with her magic, it terrifies her to have watched him veritably die over and over. What if one day, she can’t save him? _No. Don’t think that way,_ he thinks._ That’s my daughter out there, and she can take anything that monster who calls himself a man can throw at her. _

Tom stands up from the desk and walks over to his wife, kneeling in front of the chaise. He puts one giant finger under her tear-streaked chin, gently lifting up her face so he can look into her cloudy gray eyes. 

“And just look how well she’s been handling it.” His voice is almost a whisper. “You and I both know how extraordinary our daughter is even without the superpowers and secret identity. She’s kind and generous and brave, and one of the most talented kids we know. Even Gabriel Agreste thought she might upstage him as a designer one day. Audrey Bourgeois, _the_ Audrey Bourgeois, offered to take her on as an intern all the way in New York! There’s nothing in the world our daughter can’t handle, _chérie,_ and with her friends at her side, nothing else stands a chance.” He takes her hands in his. “I know it’s hard learning our daughter’s been leading such a dangerous double-life. I know. But I think we just have to trust she knows what she’s doing. She’s a bright young girl, Sabine, you know that. And, hey, even before we knew who she was, we would have trusted Ladybug with our lives. Why should we revoke our faith in her now?”

Sabine sniffs. It’s a few more silent minutes before she speaks again. “You… you’re right, Tom. Of course I trust our daughter. I just...” She no longer lets the tears in her eyes threaten her and allows them to flow down her face, pure with a mother’s love. 

“I know,” he repeats. “I know. I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter marks the end of what I had prewritten for this work! Trust me when I say things are going to be _happening_ in the chapters to come. Get hyped! :)


	6. Bonding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miraculous Team who? No, ma'am, this is the Adrien Agreste Protection Squad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me, yesterday: can't wait to post! can't wait to post! can't wait to post! ca
> 
> me, today:  
me, today:  
me, today:  
me, today: oh yeah it's update day babey!!
> 
> * * *
> 
> hey can I get some uhhhhhhhhhh Chat Noir being a dad to the newbies  
dad noir? dad noir.  
yes okay thank you

Marinette is running.

Sailing over rooftops with each tug of her yo-yo, she doesn’t even bother looking behind her as she vaults over a chimney. She feels herself gleaming in the darkness, bright red against the night sky, and takes an abrupt turn, not missing even a single step. She turns again, zigzagging, dipping into an alleyway, and keeps running. She hasn’t even broken a sweat, and the crisp air of an autumn night in Paris fills her lungs and invigorates her. She swings up again, ducking into another alleyway that spills out to the road by the park. Smirking, she takes a flying leap toward a tree in the center of the park, lands on a branch, curls up, and waits.

Less than a minute later, voices fill the park.

“Where did she go?” Nino.

_“Ugh!_ I _swear_ we just had her!” Alya.

“Think, guys.” Adrien. “She can’t have gotten far, and red isn’t the best camouflage.”

She has to suppress a snicker at that. It’s only their second chase, and she doesn’t want to make things _too_ difficult just yet. While her scarlet suit doesn’t blend in at all with the gilded leaves of the tree she sits in, the darkness of the night provides a significant damper.

“Wait, you mean you can _see_ her?!” And there's Chloé, indignant as ever.

“Of course! I can’t tell you where she is, though, that would ruin all the fun.” God, she can hear him smirking from here.

“Well, not all of us have night vision,” Chloé huffs.

“Wait, you don’t have night vision?” Alya asks. “I thought we all had it!”

“Yeah, evidently turtles have night vision, I guess,” Nino shrugs. “Who knew?”

“I mean, I don’t think mine is night vision? There’s definitely something, but it’s not night vision, and I don’t know what else it would be,” Chloé says.

“Queen Bee, if I remember correctly, you can see in the ultra-violet spectrum!” Adrien answers. “Ladybug can do it too—I think it’s an insect thing, but I’m more a physics and chemistry guy than a bio guy—but unless Ladybug is, for some, extremely concerning reason, bleeding all over the place, or… otherwise trailing bodily fluids—” he stammers out, earning some snickers form Nino and Alya, “—UV vision isn’t super helpful in this particular instance. But that doesn’t mean it can’t be!” He adds quickly, hoping he doesn’t sound discouraging. “Lord knows we’ve faced some pretty icky akumas in the past, and I doubt that’s gonna change any time soon.”

“That’s great and all, but the name’s not Queen Bee anymore,” Chloé reminds him, and Marinette can hear Adrien facepalm at his slip-up. It’s true; Queen Bee is no more. Alya had helped them stage an illusion of Chloé officially stating she would no longer be superheroing for the safety of her friends and family, standing right next to the new Bee hero, Abeille. 

There was a noticeable difference between the two girls, mainly because Chloé had asked for Marinette’s assistance in designing a new hero persona. Marinette had absolutely agreed, flattered that Chloé had asked her for help in how her new hero form would look. When they were finally done designing it, and Chloé transformed for the first time to test it out, it looked _so_ good that it made Marinette want to redesign her own uniform. While Queen Bee’s outfit was bright and attention-grabbing, Abeille’s was much sleeker and elegant in its nuance and contrast. Instead of a spintop, mirroring Ladybug’s yo-yo, Abeille has her own golden rapier. And while Queen Bee had looked much more… well, _Chloé,_ Abeille actually appeared far more regal than her counterpart.

“That which we call a rose…” Nino begins, and Marinette is trying so hard not to laugh at this point that she’s afraid the tree she’s perched in will start shaking from the way she’s pressed against it.

“Finish that sentence, Lahiffe, and you will _regret_ it,” Chloé snaps.

“Hey, hey, watch the names!” Adrien interjects, whisper-shouting. “It might be past midnight, but you never know who’s listening. Anyway, back to the chase. Rena, Carapace, can you see or hear anything?”

“I got nothin’, man,” Nino shrugs, and Marinette knows her next move has to happen in the next three seconds. Shifting her footholds, she breathes in deeply, braces her hands against the branch—

“Wait, that tree in the middle of the park!” Alya announces suddenly. “I can see her!”

—and leaps.

There seemed to be some new accord among their Miraculous after the group reveal, because the five of them started to notice some additions to their répertoire. Chat and Rena’s hearing had become more acute than before, and their footfalls much lighter and stealthier. Carapace was almost unmovable in spars, and everyone else’s weapons clashed harshly against his shield. Abeille’s movements were decisive, her reflexes as sharp as her stinger-like rapier. And, like Ladybug, pushing off hard enough from the ground let her all but soar through the air. They can’t fly, no, even though that would have been _very_ cool, but air resistance against their movements seems to have decreased significantly.

“There she goes!” Alya says, and they take off running, building up the momentum to launch themselves through the air. “Queenie, this one’s on you!”

“The name’s _Abeille!”_ Chloé shouts, crouching just enough to brace her hands against the ground before she vaults into the sky after the scarlet hero.

“We’ll be right behind you, Abeille!” Adrien calls after her. They wouldn’t lose sight of her if they got to the rooftops and ran, but Ladybug’s new ability gave her a major head start over them, with the exception of Chloé, sword in hand as she glides after their leader.

And just like that, Marinette is back on the rooftops, each bound longer and higher than the last. Yo-yoing over the skyline was exhilarating already, but now she practically flies over the Parisian buildings, almost forgetting her pursuers. She can hear the rushing of Chloé’s movements, frantically trying to catch up to her, not wanting to let her teammates down. She looks ahead to see a chimney stack staring her in the face, and she won’t have enough time between landing this jump and reaching the chimney to launch again, so she has to pick a direction.

She feints left, and trips over her own feet as she whips to the right. _“Putain,”_ she swears, cursing her own clumsiness. Normally, the superheroing prevents it, but not if she tries to move faster than her body is prepared to move. She nearly falls off the roof when a strong hand grabs her arm before she can even react, and she knows what’s coming.

_“Gotcha,”_ Abeille says, smirking down at her.

Moments later, the three other heroes arrive to find their friends cracking up, something that until just a week ago they’d never expect to see from Chloé and Marinette.

Marinette finally catches her breath once the laughing fit dies down, and says, “Only fifteen minutes this time! That’s a whole seven minutes down from the first one. Great work, you guys!”

  


* * *

  


“So,” Alya starts, taking a swig of her coffee, “what’s on the docket for tonight?”

The team’s only had four real meetings at this point, including the reveal, and now it’s become customary to chill after training and talk strategy on the rooftop where they all met for the first time. Somehow, Alya and Chloé banded together in order to convince Marinette to let them get coffee for the meeting tonight. She agreed, as long as they didn’t get it while in the suits or from her parents’ bakery. Marinette won’t say she’s been taking being a superhero less seriously, but the new group dynamic was just so much easier and more comfortable than before the reveal that staying all buttoned-up around her comrades just didn’t feel right anymore. Plus, she’d never allowed herself to relax much after she became Ladybug, and it was at Alya’s insistence that she finally realized the pressure was starting to make her both mentally and physically unhealthy; she only admitted it when she and Alya had a sleepover the weekend after the reveal, where Marinette crashed on Alya’s sofa almost immediately upon arrival, and proceeded to spend the next sixteen hours sleeping. 

“Well, now that you guys are becoming more and more acquainted with your Miraculous, I think it’s high time we start digging for leads on Hawk Moth,” Marinette answers. 

“Wait, you mean you guys haven’t started looking until _now?”_ Chloé gapes. “What have you two even been _doing_ all this time?” 

“Uh...” Adrien responds elegantly. “I mean, we haven’t really had any... leads?”

“Except for one,” Marinette adds, “and it was—oh my God, I get it now!”

“Bro, what?” Nino asks, and Adrien starts to curl into himself. 

Scooting closer to Adrien so she can take his arm, Marinette lets out a deep breath. “A little while ago, Adrien found this giant book about the Miraculous. I saw him with it in the library, the first day Lila ever came to school, and Tikki started going _nuts_ insisting that I find a way to look at it. But then Lila snagged it from Adrien—”

“She _what?!”_ Everyone else gasps, leaning closer. 

“—so I followed her, to make sure nothing happened to the book, and because Tikki would _not_ shut up about it—”

“And because you were jealous that Lila had a date with Adrien,” Alya interjects teasingly. 

“Ew, gross, no,” Adrien recoils, turning to look at Marinette, whose demeanor has dropped drastically. 

“Would you just _listen_ to me for once, Alya Césaire?” The use of her full name causes Alya to shrink back a little, muttering a small “sorry.”

“Anyway, as I was following her, I saw her duck into a Gabriel boutique and come out with a small box. She got to the park and took a necklace out of the box, one that looked almost exactly like the Fox Miraculous.”

_“What?!”_  
  
“And then she looked in the book again, I think—maybe—to make sure she had her story straight, which, if you ask me, is the most effort she’s put into any of her lies—”

“Marinette...” Alya starts, but whatever she’s about to say withers under the glare Marinette shoots at her. 

“And then, when she saw Adrien coming, she shoved it into the trash can next to the bench where she was sitting.”

_“Chienne!”_ Chloé snarls. “Let me guess—she tried to trick Adrien into thinking she was a Miraculous holder so she could get closer to him because of his crush on Ladybug?”

Both Adrien and Marinette blush furiously, but Adrien recovers enough to respond, “That’s about it, yeah.”

“And she tried to tell you _she_ was the Fox?” Alya barks, laughing bitterly. “Like she could ever be as good of a Fox as I am.” She crosses her arms. 

“Actually, she told me she was descended from one, not necessarily that she _was_ one, but that’s when she showed me the necklace, which I definitely thought was real at the time, based on what little I got to see of that book before it disappeared.” He pauses, then suddenly slams a fist on the ground, making everyone jump. _“Ugh!_ I can’t believe she would just—just throw the book away to avoid being caught with it! Did she even care that it was mine? I mean, it wasn’t, it was my father’s, but still!”

“Dude, hold up—you said your old man had that book?” Nino asks, concern growing on his face like a weed. 

“And that, Nino, brings us to the last and only time Adrien and I have talked about who Hawk Moth might be, but because of our secret identities, I couldn’t tell him why I thought, and still think, it’s Gabriel Agreste.”

At the name, Adrien flinches, as though slapped. Alya gasps, and Nino huddles closer to her. Chloé remains silent, until—

“Quel _salaud!”_ Chloé screeches, and everyone jumps at the outburst. “God, that makes so much sense! How did I never see it before! I—_ugh!_ I should have seen that from the beginning!” She stands up abruptly, fuming. “That’s it, we’re storming the mansion _now._ Adrien, I’m so sorry. I can’t _believe_ he’s been fighting his own son this whole time! As if he doesn’t make your life miserable enough already!”

“Hey, hey, Chloé,” Marinette says, standing up and reaching out to the other girl. “Look. I get it, and I know at this point I can only hope to be Vice President of the Adrien Agreste Protection Squad,” she starts, earning and amused huff from Chloé, “but even though I think I had a pretty solid argument before, and an even better one now that we no longer have the barrier of identities, we still don’t know for sure yet. I know you’re the only person who hates Gabriel Agreste more than I do, and believe me, I want to tear the man apart just as much as you do. But we can’t just burst in there, guns blazing, and expect things to turn out well, especially if we don’t 100% know if it’s him or not.” At her words, Chloé backs down and her heavy breathing slows, barely.

“So, so far we have the book,” Alya notes, counting a finger and holding it up. “Did you have anything else, Mari?”

“Well, none of this is conclusive, or nearly as damning as the book, but we know Gabriel is a known social recluse. He doesn’t come out for anything, except for the fashion show right after Style Queen.”

“Yeah, what was up with that?” Nino asks. “Your dad doesn’t leave the house, like, ever.”

Adrien shrugs weakly. “Your guess is as good as mine. The best I’ve been able to come up with was the shock of me getting turned to glitter and slowly disintegrating, but I also got dropped off a skyscraper by Gorizilla, and he didn’t show for that, so... yeah. I really don’t know.”

“Okay, so we’ve got the book, and he’s an asocial butterfly.” Alya counts another finger. 

“Speaking of butterflies—” Marinette starts, but she’s cut off by Chloé shrieking. 

“His brand’s logo!” She screams, and the sudden loudness causes everyone else to take a full minute to process what she’s shouting about. “His logo is a freaking _butterfly! Putain!”_

Alya pulls out her communicator and taps something out, gasping before showing her results to Nino, who shakes his head in defeat. “She’s right, bro, his logo is literally, like, an evil butterfly. Oh my God. I’m so sorry man, I—t-this sucks, dude, um, I-I’m so sorry, I-I, _merde,_ man, t-this—” The next thing anyone knows, Nino is weeping in Adrien’s arms, which, although it’s a comforting gesture, may not have been the smartest move, given that Adrien looks ready to vomit. 

“I, uh, well—! I mean, um, we still don’t know for _certain,”_ Marinette says weakly, trying to lighten the suddenly dark air that feels like is suffocating them all, but Alya just places a hand on her shoulder, looking downward, shaking her head softly. 

“No, no, Marinette, i-it’s—it’s okay,” Adrien says, meekly hobbling over, still cradling a sobbing Nino. “There’s no point denying it anymore, I guess. I just—I didn’t want it to be true, I-I so badly wanted it to not be true, but—I mean, I guess we already knew he was getting the award for Worst Dad Ever, right?” He laughs softly, but all the joy has been drained from him. Chloé throws herself around him, but when she does it now, it’s so different from the way she used to do it at school, all clingy and tight and clearly one-sided. Now, Chloé embraces him tenderly, and he sinks against her, trying in vain to somehow suppress his sudden sniffling. 

Alya and Marinette share a glance, then walk over to hug him too, allowing themselves to break with him so he doesn’t have to break on his own. 

“We’ve gotcha, Sunshine,” Alya murmurs. “No matter what happens now, we’ve gotcha.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the [redesign](https://fabulously-frenzied.tumblr.com/post/189649631362/my-vision-of-the-redesign-i-had-in-mind-for-chlo%C3%A9) I did for Chloé's new hero persona, Abeille! For a while now, I've had this headcanon that Queen Bee's spin top weapon was similar to Ladybug's yo-yo because Chloé wanted to be like her. We saw all throughout season one and most of season two how she _idolized_ Ladybug, but in the context of this story, Queen Bee is no more, and Chloé gets to be her own hero without comparing herself to anyone else.
> 
> my recent search history consists of:  
-bees infrared vision  
-bees ultraviolet vision  
-insect ultraviolet vision  
-what can you see with ultraviolet  
-do ladybugs have compound eyes  
-do foxes have night vision  
-do turtles have night vision


	7. Reassurance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tensions are mounting, and Tom and Sabine meet a stranger who changes everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not gonna lie, I cried a little writing this one.

_Crack._

Squeeze.

_Crack._

Squeeze.

_Crack._

Squeeze.

_Crack._

_“Chérie?”_ Tom calls from the kitchen counter.

“Just a minute, _amour!”_ his wife calls back from the storefront. He sighs, looking down at the mess he’s made in front of him, shoulders slumping, and leans back against the wall. “What’s going on back—oh,” she stops in the door, surveying the damage.

“I just can’t _do_ it anymore, Sabine!” he says, picking up one of several crushed macarons and squeezing it between his massive fingers. “I can’t do _anything_ anymore without thinking of what she might be doing out there!”

“Oh, come now, Tom, it’s not like our daughter’s a vandal,” she says, trying to bring up his spirits. After all, their daughter is kind of the opposite of a vandal. A vigilante, maybe, yes, but not a vandal.

“But I don’t know what she’s _doing!”_ He throws his hands in the air, bits of macaron going flying when he brings them back down hard on the counter. “Marinette is constantly throwing herself into harm’s way almost every day now, and there’s nothing either of us can do to help her! We’re her parents! That’s our job! And we can’t even do that much for her!”

“Tom, Tom!” Sabine shouts, placing her hands on his elbow because she can’t reach his shoulder to comfort him. Then, more gently, “I know, okay? I hate it, too. I’ve had so many nightmares since that conference with Caline a-about, you know, what if something goes wrong—”

“Honey, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to worry you—”

“I’m already worried!” Tom throws his arms up again, and instead of macarons this time, he accidentally sends Sabine flying off of him. She hits the opposite wall and slides down to the floor. “Oh, no! Oh, Sabine, _chérie,_ dear, I’m so sorry, I—”

She puts up her hand to stop him when he rushes close. He kneels down, still towering over her, lowers his head, and rests a hand against hers. She wraps her fingers with his, and breathes out. “I know, Tom, okay? And I know you have them too—”

“What? No, I—”

“You talk in your sleep, dear, we’ve been over this,” Sabine laughs weakly. “And I know you know as well as I do that the attacks have been getting worse lately. It’s a lot to handle. For anyone.” She squeezes his hand. “So, I’ve decided that on our weekly Thursday off tomorrow, we’re going to go get massages, and get rid of some of this tension, okay?”

“Um, okay.” Tom blinks. “Wait, when were you going to tell me about this?”

“Well, I would have told you sooner, if you hadn’t kept throwing yourself into work instead of listening to me,” she retorts, grunting as she pushes herself up against the wall. “But you keep taking every distraction available. What’s so different about getting a massage?”

“Why is this about me now? You just booked our one day off without telling me!”

“Well, _someone_ has to keep things running around here—”

“And that’s supposed to be you? Sabine, you’ve done some of the laziest decorations recently that I’ve ever seen you do in the twelve years we’ve run this bakery together, and you’re telling me you’re the one keeping things running?”

“Tom, you can’t focus on anything anymore for more than two minutes before you throw in the towel and switch to something else!”

“Well, at least I’m doing something!”

“And I’m not? I decorate the pastries, I run the checkout, I make sure you don’t forget to turn off the ovens when we close—”

“Only if I make sure you remember to turn them on in the first place!”

“Tom, _why are we the problem now?!”_

A beat of silence follows her deafening words. Even the chatter of the busy bakery just down the hall from them seems to have diminished, and they hope desperately that no one out there heard them shouting. Blue eyes meet gray, and they can’t even move for a moment before they catch a glimpse of dark wings fluttering toward them.

“Don’t you even think about it,” Sabine downright snarls at the akuma, brandishing a finger at the butterfly. It flinches back, stalls, and then floats away. She looks back at her husband, who stares after the evil creature for a few seconds more before returning his gaze to her. He sighs, then lifts up his wife, standing.

“Massages sound nice, _chérie._ Why don’t you finish up these macarons, and I’ll go man the front?”

  


* * *

  


“Are you _sure_ this is the place?” Tom asks, peering down the alley.

“That’s what his address said online.” Sabine takes a cautious step forward as though something will immediately jump out at her. “I think I see a sign down there.” They walk hand in hand down the alley, and, sure enough, find the sign to read _Fu’s Massage Parlor._

“Not that I question your judgment or anything, but why did you pick this one?”

“There wasn’t a single negative review left for him.”

“He could just delete them from his website, you know.”

“The reviews weren’t _on_ his website, Tom, I did my research.” Sabine rolls her eyes, patting her husband’s arm and then knocking on the door. She barely so much as raps her knuckles against the wood when it swings open to reveal an elderly man even shorter than Sabine, which is saying something. The man simply smiles up at them. 

“Welcome, welcome,” he says, voice stronger than his frail body would otherwise imply. “Please, come in. I’d like to get started right away with you two.” He steps aside and gestures to the foyer behind him. They step inside, and don’t see anyone waiting in the little sitting area by the desk. He leads them through the front and into the room behind it, revealing a sparsely decorated room, humble in appearance with the exception of an ornate gramophone on the dresser in the back.

“Remind me of your names, please,” the man asks, and though he isn’t loud it still startles Tom and Sabine as they were taking in the room. 

“Oh! I’m Sabine, and this is my husband, Tom,” Sabine answers, smiling feebly. A look of recognition passes over the man’s face.

“Forgive me if I’m wrong, but you run the boulangerie-pâtisserie in the 21ème arrondissement, correct?” Fu asks.

“Yes, that’s us!” Tom beams, clearly proud that someone knew about their little bakery.

“Mmmm. Your _pains au chocolat_ are divine,” the man nods.

“Thank you!”

The man nods again. “Now. I can see you both are carrying much weight. Please, allow me to see if I can alleviate some of your stress.” He gestures to the mat on the floor, and they take his invitation to sit. “Before we begin, I’d like to start with some meditation. My practices involve relaxing the mind as well as the body.”

Tom looks at Sabine, who nods gently. “That sounds good to me,” she answers. “We’ve had a lot on our minds lately.” Fu nods again in return.

“Please, cross your legs, straighten your spine, and fold your hands in your lap.” They do as instructed, and he mirrors them. “Close your eyes, and breathe in deeply with me.” They spend a good few minutes in silence, inhaling and exhaling in rhythm with each other. Through closed eyes, Tom and Sabine can sense the clouds passing beyond the large window in the wall, tossing and catching shadows with the furniture in the room. “Now, I would like you to focus on one stressor. It does not have to be your biggest stressor; it can be as simple as preparing dinner tonight. Once you have chosen one to focus on, ask yourself why you find this factor so stressful.”

It’s not hard for Tom and Sabine to pick something when the answer is so obvious to them. Thinking of their daughter, tension radiates thickly around them. _“Why is this factor so stressful?”_ Oh, maybe because there’s a masked man using evil butterflies to turn people into supervillains. Maybe it’s because he’s actively targeting Ladybug because he wants her earrings. Maybe it’s because _their daughter is Ladybug and an evil butterfly man is targeting her and she has to actively throw herself in danger every day to keep everyone else safe and they can't do anything to help—_

_“Ladybug!_ Oh, my sweet little girl,” Tom gasps, unable to help himself, overcome with useless compassion. Sabine’s and Fu’s eyes snap open, and Tom slaps a hand over his mouth. _Oh no, oh no, oh no, no, no, no…_ “Uh! I mean, um—”

“Tell me, how is it that you two know your daughter’s identity?” Fu questions, and the couple’s eyes go even wider.

“What?” Sabine asks, suddenly extremely concerned. If this stranger knew, and Mme Bustier figured the heroes out, then what were the chances that dozens, even _hundreds_ of other people knew? What if _Hawk Moth_ knew? “What are you talking about? How do _you_ know?” 

“I know because I am the one who gave her the Ladybug Miraculous in the first place.” 

_Fu._

The man stands, still not reaching Tom’s height sitting down. His stature is further dwarfed when Tom bolts up, nearly fuming.

“You mean _you’re_ the one who sent a bunch of kids to fight a madman? You threw some magical earrings at my daughter and pushed her into a fight she had _nothing_ to do with, and where have you been this whole time? Giving _massages?”_ Sabine’s gentle touch brings him down a bit and drains some of the red from his face, but he continues to glare death at the old man.

“I am too old and can no longer fight. Your daughter is the most wonderful Ladybug I have seen in ages, and she does an excellent job of keeping the city safe from the enemy. You should be proud.”

“I am! That’s not the point!” Tom shouts, and he’s fuming again.

“Oh?”

“Listen, you,” Tom starts, jabbing a finger in Fu’s face. “I don’t know how things are done where you’re from—”

“China.”

“—but here in Paris, we don’t go around putting kids we don’t know in danger just because we’re ‘too old’ to do a job ourselves.”

“And it’s not the way we do things in China, either,” Sabine adds, frowning.

“And what would either of you know of the way things are done concerning the Miraculous?” the man retorts, his cheerful demeanor falling. Both Tom and Sabine have to stop at that, because he’s technically right: they don’t know anything about the Miraculous. But—

“Do _not_ take that tone of voice with me!” Sabine roars. “I don’t know who you are or what you’re even doing here, but you don’t—you _can’t_ know what it’s like to see your daughter out there, fighting for her life against someone nobody knows _anything _about, watching her try not to self-destruct from all the weight of school and friends and projects and _saving the entire city_ on her shoulders, and knowing you can’t do _anything_ to help her?!”

For his part, a flash of guilt crosses Fu’s eyes, looking down, and he opens his mouth to respond when they hear a loud _crash_ from the street, and the parlor door swings open.

“Master, I—oh.” A startled Marinette freezes in the doorway at the sight of her parents looming over the Guardian with fury all over their faces, and some tiny, floating, red blob gasps and zips behind her. “I, um, uh, I—is now a bad time?”

Fu sighs wearily and shakes his head in defeat. “Just take it,” he says, slipping off the bracelet on his wrist and holding out his hand. 

She rushes up and grabs it, not daring to say another word, but her parents manage to catch her eye as she runs out of the room, and they see something in their daughter that they haven’t seen so strongly in her for a long time:

_Fear._

  


* * *

  


Tom and Sabine did still get their massages, though Fu insisted they didn’t need to pay him, and they didn’t much feel like arguing with him. They arrive back home, with their bodies significantly more relaxed than their minds, and they slump onto the couch in the salon. The clock in the kitchen reads 16h15, so they’ll see her home from school in around twenty minutes.

Or not. They really don’t know anymore. She could be anywhere, doing anything, and they would have no idea.

They haven’t moved from the couch when the apartment door creaks open and soft footsteps enter the room. They look up and see their daughter, anxiously wringing her hands, eyes wet.

“How long have you known?” she asks meekly.

It takes all of Sabine’s energy to answer. “Since the conference with Mme Bustier, after Heroes’ Day.”

Marinette’s eyes widen momentarily, but she shakes it off. She looks down. “Are… are you mad at me?”

“What?” Tom says, sitting up straighter, trying his best to look his daughter in the eye despite her staring contest with the floor. “No, honey, no! Not at all! We couldn’t be mad at you! We’re so proud!” He reaches for her hands, which she lets him hold. She lifts her head ever so slightly, revealing wet lines on her cheeks.

“Oh, honey,” Sabine says, standing up to hug her, wrapping her arms around her tightly. “We’re so proud of you. So, so proud, and we love you more than we can say.” She feels her daughter soften into the hug before she starts shaking, crying gently until full-on sobs start wracking her body. Tom stands up and hugs them both.

“I-I-I’m s-so sor-sorry,” Marinette chokes out. “I w-wanted—w-w-wanted to t-tell you, th-this whole t-time—”

“Shh, dear,” Tom coos, “it’s okay. We know you couldn’t. We know it’s not your fault.”

“We’ve just been so worried about you,” Sabine says, and Marinette cries harder. “But you’re here now, with us, and right now, we’re all safe. We love you so, so, much, Marinette, and that’s never going to change, no matter what might try to tear us apart. You’re stronger than anything Hawk Moth throws at you, and we couldn’t be more proud to know it was our own daughter who stood up to him on that day in September last year, and who’s kept him at bay ever since.”

“Everything’s okay right now,” Tom says. “I’m here, your mother’s here, you’re here. We’re all here, and we’ve got each other, okay?”

Still crying, Marinette nods into them, and loses herself in her parents’ embrace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I called it "useless compassion" because that's how it feels to me when someone I care about is struggling with something and I know that I am absolutely powerless to help them. It sucks, and it makes you mad at whatever put either of you in your respective situations. For Tom and Sabine, that's Fu.
> 
> If you haven't been following me on tumblr, you might want to consider it—I've been doing redesigns for each of the heroes, and I'll be working on Chat Noir's and Ladybug's soon!
> 
> One last thing: not only are the holidays coming up, but I'm having my wisdom teeth removed at the beginning of January. Believe me when I say I'm going to do my best to get updates out for you, but I really can't make any promises at this time. Fortunately, I already have about half of chapter 8 written, which makes things a little easier for me, and I think it should be an easy chapter to finish writing. Unfortunately, I have _no_ idea what chapter 9 is going to look like yet, and the day I'm set to post that is the day I get my wisdom teeth removed. Hopefully I'll have more information for you by next week's update, but I'll post any new pertinent info on my tumblr. In the meantime, thank you all so much for your support in this process—you guys are what keep me writing.


	8. Camouflage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some different perspectives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you may be asking yourself: this is a post-season 2 fic from an author who has shown her clear distaste for Lila Rossi. where is Chameleon?
> 
> :)

“Hey, girl, c’mere!” Marinette can hear Alya beckoning her from the end of the block. Upping her pace, she jogs over to the front steps of the school.

“What’s up?” she asks.

“Uh,” she starts, scanning their surroundings, “actually, can we go inside? This is something I kinda wanna talk to just you about.”

Nodding, Marinette follows her friend inside, wondering what’s on her mind. Usually, Alya is so open about anything she wants to say, and as a reporter it’s practically her nature to spread information as much as she can. So, to say she wants to talk to _just_ Marinette probably means whatever it is is hero-related. They find an isolated bench in the corner of the courtyard and sit down.

“So, um,” Alya starts again, clearing her throat but proceeding to speak rather softly for someone so outspoken, “I figured it was only fair if I told you first, but… I’m taking down Lila’s interview from the Ladyblog.”

“You are?!” It’s all Marinette can do to not scream the words and jump out of her seat. “How come?”

Alya’s voice gets even softer. “I, um… well, I realized, uh… I kinda jumped the gun on that interview, okay?”

“You could say that,” Marinette scoffs, only half-regretting the guilty look it puts on Alya’s face.

“I know, okay?” Alya lets a long breath out through her nose. “I know. Look, I… I shouldn’t have called you jealous, okay? I just—I wanted… akuma reports on the blog only do so well—”

“And Lila offered you fresh material,” Marinette finishes, and Alya nods meekly.

“I mean, an exclusive interview with someone calling herself a superhero’s best friend? It’s a reporter’s dream! And…” Another breath out. “And I realized… so many things just didn’t add up.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, like how she’d only just moved to Paris and couldn’t possibly have known you, or how professional and secretive Ladybug is about her personal life—which, like, as an aside, you’ve _totally_ gotta give me some pointers how you keep your cool all the time like you do—a-and… and just, just, how _stupid_ it would be for someone to call themselves close with the person literally getting targeted by a middle-aged dude in a wrestling mask who makes people evil with butterflies—” and Marinette just _has_ to laugh when she puts it that way because _oh God she’s never thought about it like that before,_ “—and… and I didn’t even ask Ladybug myself if it was even true. I run the Ladyblog, for crying out loud! Of literally _any_ civilian, I probably had the best chance of asking you—”

_“Shh!”_ Marinette quickly shushes her, placing a hand on Alya’s shoulder. Alya’s eyes widen for a moment before letting out another deep breath.

“—I had the best chance of asking Ladybug if it was even _okay_ with her to post such a personal interview on the internet. So… I’m sorry. I should have realized something was up, and I should have realized you wouldn’t just hate someone out of jealousy. I’m taking down the video,” she finishes, pulling out her phone and opening the web browser.

“Thanks, Alya,” Marinette says, smiling softly. “I guess I can understand how you would have wanted a scoop like that. It’s just—she was lying about me, okay? She was lying about me and trying to use me to get ahead, and that wasn’t okay. I mean, yeah, I guess she was trying to go after Adrien, and it made me insecure—” Alya snorts.

_“Pssh,_ girl? What do you _you_ have to be insecure about?”

“Shut up,” Marinette says, blushing. “Look, okay, I-I’ll admit that part of why I was mad was because she was trying to get with Adrien, all right? But at the end of the day, it didn’t matter if she was lying to him or to you or literally anyone and everyone else, I didn’t like that she was being untruthful about m—about Ladybug to try and make herself seem better than everyone else. It just wasn’t right.”

“And it wasn’t right of me to post that interview without even thinking about what it might mean,” Alya replies. She looks down and smiles, then holds up her phone for Marinette to see. “There. Deleted. So… we cool?”

“Yeah,” Marinette smiles, leaning over to hug her friend, “we are.”

“Besides,” Alya smirks, pulling back just enough to look Marinette in the eyes, “Lila’s gotta be jealous of you now, right? You’re a hero _and_ you’ve got Adrien!”

Marinette giggles. “Well, she’s gotta be jealous of you, too!”

“What do you mean?”

She leans close and whispers in Alya’s ear, _“You’re_ Ladybug’s best friend!”

The entire courtyard looks their way when Alya bursts out laughing. 

  


* * *

  


They make it all the way to third period before Lila confronts them.

“Alya, hey, Alya, wait up!” Marinette turns around to see Lila chasing after them, waving for their attention.

“Whoa, hey, slow down, girl!” Alya says. Sharing a knowing glance with Marinette, she asks, “What’s up, hon?”

“I, um—” Lila looks cautiously toward Marinette as if trying to figure out exactly how to word her next sentence. “I noticed my interview on the Ladyblog… it’s, uh, it’s not there anymore! Did something happen?”

Marinette bites her tongue. Hard. _Gee, Lila, check that page often?_

“Oh, that!” Alya says, making a good show of smacking her forehead like she forgot about the whole thing and didn’t just delete the video earlier that morning. “Sorry, Lila, but I got asked to take it down.” 

_“What?!”_ Lila blurts, then, more controlled, “I mean, who asked you to take it down?”

“Ladybug,” Alya responds simply. Marinette does her best to pretend like she’s not paying attention to the conversation, because if she aims her focus back on Lila and Alya, she’ll probably start cracking up.

“W-w-why, uh, why would Ladybug ask you to do that? I’m her BFF, after all!” It’s extremely gratifying to see Lila try to hide how nervous she is, and Marinette can see the slightest hint of smugness in Alya’s eyes.

“Oh, she did it with the best intentions, Lila!” Marinette finally says, earning a faint sneer from the girl. “We just don’t want you to be akumatized!”

“Really?”

“Of course!” Alya responds. “I mean, it would be so… so _dangerous_ to put yourself out there as Ladybug’s best friend! The Ladyblog is a big platform, and what if Hawk Moth saw that you were close with her? He might try to attack you! Marinette, don’t you think it would be just _awful_ if Hawk Moth akumatized Lila and used her again to try and take down Ladybug?”

“Oh, no, that’d be _terrible!_ And he came so close to beating them on Heroes’ Day, too!” Marinette adds, hoping she’s not laying it on too thick and trying her absolute hardest not to roll her eyes. Still, she can’t help adding a little jab here or there, after everything the liar has done.

“Yeah, yeah, he sure did,” Lila mutters darkly. She quickly switches her façade and says, “Well, thanks for looking out for me, Alya! But, wait—wasn’t that interview one of the most viewed videos on your blog?” she asks in what Alya now clearly recognizes as only mock dismay, if the way she sharply narrows her eyes is any indication.

“The safety of my friends will _always_ come before hit counts,” Alya says firmly, and Marinette is rather enjoying the conflict of disappointment and “gratitude” across Lila’s face.

“Aww, Alya, you’re the sweetest! You’d make a great hero—actually, tell ya what, I’ll even put in a good word for you with Ladybug! You know, since she and I are so close and all, and—oh! You might even be the next Miraculous hero!” Lila simpers, and it’s clear Alya is actively trying to _not_ show how uncomfortable she is when Lila hugs her.

“Don’t mention it,” Alya says, “Seriously, don’t mention it. Come on, Marinette, we’ve got to get to class.”

Once they’ve walked far enough away, Marinette asks jokingly, “Wow, my best friend, a _hero?”_

“Oh, don’t act so surprised, girl,” Alya says, playfully shoving her. “It was your call, anyway.”  


  


* * *

  


“Okay, _you,_ are you happy?”

“Huh?” Marinette turns around from the bathroom sink to find Lila sauntering into the restroom.

_“You_ said something to your Ladyblogger friend. Convinced her that for _safety reasons,_ she should take down my interview. What, did you get Ladybug herself to tell her to do it? Last I checked, _I’m_ supposed to be Ladybug’s best friend,” Lila sneers at her.

“Yeah, well,” Marinette starts, shaking her hands in the sink to dry them off, “you and I both know that’s not true.”

“But _nobody_ else knows that!” she barks, marching right up to Marinette, who doesn’t so much as flinch at her advancing. “And if you wanna keep all your lovely little _friends,_ it’s gonna _stay_ that way.”

“Oh?”

“Do you really think you’re so perfect? That you’re just that far above the rest of us? Right, you have so many_ ‘friends,’”_ Lila snarls at the word, chaining it with air quotes, “that it doesn’t matter to you which ones I _take_ from you, huh? What about your little Ladyblogger friend? I’ve heard what a coward you were before she showed up to school; what would you be without her now? Or—oh, I know, your precious little Adrien? You know, before Ladybug swooped in and tore me to pieces in front of him, he was perfectly happy to get cozy with me! That’s more than he’s ever been with _you,_ and it’s more than he’ll _ever_ be with you!” At this point, Lila’s practically panting, her rage seething like the foam of a rabid animal. Marinette’s calm demeanor has not shifted, and she simply smiles at the other girl, confusing her and angering her further.

“Go ahead and try, Lila. If our classmates want to believe you over me, I can’t stop them. But I know who my real friends are, and I know they’ll stand by me no matter what,” she says, patting Lila’s shoulder gently. She can feel Lila’s whole body shaking with ire.

“Yeah, and her _‘Ladyblogger friend’_ has a name,” comes a third voice as Alya steps out of one of the bathroom stalls, phone in hand and camera aimed directly at Lila.

“You—you’re—you wouldn’t _dare!”_ Lila shrieks, pointing at Alya.

“Dare what, Lila? _We_ haven’t done anything, like threaten innocent people while they’re alone and say we’d take away all their friends if they didn’t bow down to us,” she counters, her voice a battlefield of smugness and fury.

For a moment, nobody says anything, before Lila practically spits at Marinette, “This isn’t over. This is _war,”_ she declares, jabbing a finger in Marinette’s face before whipping around and storming out of the room.

Alya stares a moment more, then hits the _stop record_ button on her phone and walks over to Marinette. “Is this what she’s been doing to you, Marinette? Why didn’t you tell one of us?”

Marinette sighs, her calm demeanor falling for the first time into an expression of disappointment. “Well, for one thing, she’s never come at me like _that_ before—”

“That doesn’t make it okay!”

“—and for another thing, I didn’t think anyone would believe me. You know how good she is at twisting stories, Al; she would have flipped something like this right back at me and suddenly I would have been the villain. If they believe that a balled-up _napkin_ I threw toward her could stab someone’s eye out, even if they’re wearing _glasses,_ they’d absolutely believe that _I’m_ the one who threatened _her,_ not the other way around.” 

“I’m sorry we didn’t listen to you at first, girl. You’re my best friend! I know you’d never make such an accusation without a reason to accuse.” Alya looks away and sighs. “I’m sorry _I_ didn’t listen to you. Can you forgive me?” she asks, spreading her arms out to hug her.

“Of course,” Marinette giggles, “but God, Al—wash your hands first!”  
  
Neither Marinette nor Alya was surprised to come out of the restroom to news of something that sounded suspiciously like an akuma running around. They found a hatless Nino, who told them Adrien had run up to him, told him he hates him, and stole his cap.

“Yup, that’s not our Sunshine,” Alya surmises, sighing. “Come on, guys, let’s go knock Lila down a peg.”

“Wait, that was Lila?” Nino asks. “What makes you say that?”

“Tell you later,” Marinette answers. “Let’s go!”

She feels bad having to leave Nino out of the fights sometimes, but Fu still bears the Turtle, and only allows her to take it when the situation calls for it. By this point, she no longer needs the assistance of her Lucky Charm to gauge whether or not a battle is that kind of situation, scoping out the field and the akuma _du jour_ within a matter of seconds before swinging over to Fu’s place.

Marinette figures Carapace will be useful today, because from what she’s already gathered, Lila’s new akumatization can only transform when she kisses someone. If the team can keep her contained, then she can’t escape, and she expects that it should be a quick game over from there.

  


What she hadn’t expected was to see her parents in Fu’s parlor, standing over him like they were about to tear him limb from limb.

_“I, um, uh, I—is now a bad time?”_ Oh, no. Oh, this was bad, this was very, very bad. Did they know? How long had they known? Had they told anyone? Or-or did they not know, and now Marinette’s blown her cover because she didn’t knock on the door? She didn’t hear them in there! What were they thinking? What would they think? Would they be mad? Would they try to ground her? Take her earrings away? Would they—

_“Just take it,”_ Fu had said, shaking his head and slipping off the Turtle bracelet, defeated. She rushed up and grabbed it, not daring to say another word, but when her parents had caught her eye as she turned to leave, Marinette had never felt more afraid in her life.

She nearly swings into a building almost immediately upon leaving Fu’s place, she’s so disoriented from apprehension. It’s only by some miracle (_absolutely_ no pun intended) that she manages to make it all the way back to Françoise Dupont, where she finds Nino in the courtyard getting some footage for the Ladyblog. She finds an empty corner, detransfroms, then runs and taps him on the shoulder. He turns and sees her, hitting _stop_ on the recording.

“Need me, Coach? I’m—whoa, hey, Nette, you good?” he asks, suddenly concerned. “You look super pale.”

“Let’s just get this over with, okay?” she pleads, and he nods resolutely as she hands him the bracelet.

With Carapace in play, the battle ends quickly. The four other heroes band together around him, and he casts Shelter around them, trapping a scowling, stolen-hat wearing Adrien Agreste in there with him. The fight ends in a snap, and Marinette hardly even remembers catching and freeing the akuma. Naturally, Lila tries to play the pity card, but every single hero vaults away the moment she opens her mouth, leaving the liar very confused and more than a little miffed.

They initially all leave in separate directions, just so no one can trace them all to the same place, but meet up immediately in an empty classroom at the school.

“Something’s wrong,” Chloé starts, taking Marinette’s hands and looking her in the eyes. “Spill.”

“Chloé, if she wants to tell us, she’ll tell us, okay?” Alya says, even though everyone, including Alya, knows she would have led with the same thing if Chloé hadn’t beat her to it.

“No, no, it’s…” Marinette shakes her head, not quite feeling fully conscious anymore. “My parents know. I don’t know how, but they know.”

“They—oh, no,” Nino stops. “They know?” She nods.

“What are you going to do?” Adrien asks, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“I don’t know,” and with every word Marinette feels closer and closer to fainting. Her friends must spot it, because she nearly collapses—or she would have, had her friends not immediately rushed to her side.

“I’m taking you to the nurse,” Chloé announces, leaving no room for Marinette to protest.

“I’m going with you,” Adrien adds.

“And I’m sending that video to Mme Bustier and Principal Damocles,” Alya finishes.

Marinette smiles weakly at them all before being carefully led out of the room. No matter what happens next, she knows they’ve got her. She couldn’t ask for better friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I'm sure probably many of you have seen in other fics, the French word for "ladybug" is _coccinelle._ The double "c" technically creates a sound more similar to /x/ or /ks/, but it's close enough to a /ch/ sound, especially if you say it fast. In any case, I just found the idea of Nino calling Marinette "coach" funny.
> 
> Once again, I'm going to do my best with updates in the following weeks considering my wisdom teeth surgery next Friday. If I don't get one out on schedule, please be patient with me.  
I hope you all are having a wonderful holiday season!


	9. Transference

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The air clears between Marinette and her parents, and they receive an unexpected visitor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOOOOOOOOO GUESS WHO'S BACK  
sorry for the unexpected hiatus. it actually wasn't the wisdom teeth; in fact, I was up and kicking the next day. it's hard to put into words exactly where this inactivity came from, but I think it was part: not having prepared the next chapter; part: not quite knowing how I'm going to end this (because we _are_ getting close); part: burnout; part: getting distracted by other factors (I'm looking at you, ESO); and part: a ton of other little things.  
I will be doing my best, now that I'm back in a real schedule, to put out more of this story as I am able. I won't promise Fridays anymore, though I will keep it as a goal to shoot for. Plus, there's something I'd like to have out for Valentine's Day, so hopefully that happens too.
> 
> That said, this chapter is a little on the short side, but what it lacks in quantity, I believe more than makes up for in quality.
> 
> Thank you all for your support throughout this work. It means more than I can say to know you all want me to keep writing, and it's my main source of motivation to keep this going. Love you, frenz!

Things have gotten simultaneously easier and harder for the Dupain-Cheng household. For one, communication is definitely more open and honest, but usually very terse with a lot of underlying tension and concern. For another, Marinette rarely stays at home anymore, bouncing from school to near-daily akuma attacks to planning and training sessions with her friends, and even though her parents have a better idea of where she is when she’s not sleeping in her room for three or four hours, they still aren’t any less worried as long as the threat of Hawk Moth still looms over Paris.

At least they know she’s keeping herself and her friends well-fed, if the amount of pastries they’ve given her to take to the team meetings is any indication.

It’s with the defeat of the most recent villain, Miraculer, that Tom and Sabine realize they’re nearing the endgame now.

“See, we _have_ a plan—mostly,” Marinette explains later that afternoon when she finally gets home. “We’ve located this giant purple butterfly window on the back of the Agrestes’ mansion—which, how nobody ever noticed that is beyond me—so the other night we had Adrien do recon since he camouflages best in the dark and has the most experience sneaking around that building—” and good Lord, if Tom and Sabine hadn’t _already_ been concerned about the boy’s home life, the revelation of Hawk Moth’s possible identity had Tom trying to bolt to the phone to call Child Protection Services before Marinette and Sabine pulled him back down, “—and it looks like that window leads into a secret room in the house, maybe multiple, that Hawk Moth probably uses as his base. Adrien also got his kwami—” and _that_ revelation made Tom faint (it’s not every day one meets a talking, floating, cookie-eating, red bug-mouse thing that grants superhuman abilities), “—to do some extra surveillance looking for cameras, and we managed to make a fairly detailed map of that particular room and cameras and traps to watch out for. We’re still working out all the logistics, and when we’re finally taking this fight to him, but—oh, I think I heard a knock at the door.”

It’s a welcome distraction, to be completely honest, because the last thing Sabine wants to think about is her daughter having to prepare for a giant battle, even if fighting is a daily activity for her at this point. Still, it’s hard for her to watch Ladybug to throw herself between the city and horrible danger every day, and once Tom realized that while he was akumatized, he had not only put his own daughter in danger but also prevented the only hero capable of saving them _from saving them,_ the flashbacks and nightmares had only gotten worse. Lost in thought, Sabine almost runs into the door before the knocking snaps her out of it. She shakes herself off, collects herself, and opens the door.

“Hello, Mme Cheng,” a voice greets her, and it takes Sabine a full second to recognize the man who dares to stand before her. Her instinct is to slam the door in his face, but she calms herself down like the gracious host she is.

“Is your daughter home?” Fu asks, and Sabine’s eyes narrow despite her efforts to remain levelheaded.

“Why do you ask?”

“To tell the truth, you, your husband, and your daughter have caused me to realize that my past actions have been… myopic. The entire reason the…” he lowers his voice, strained though it is already, “…the Peacock and the Butterfly were lost in the first place was because of a foolish decision I made to cut corners instead of fully addressing my responsibility. When the threat of Hawk Moth arose, I immediately put in place the first solution I thought of, without considering long-term effects—consequences, rather. I failed to acknowledge the mental and emotional repercussions it would have on the… on the children I appointed to fight a battle created of my own poor decisions.

“Your daughter has proven time and time again that she is far more capable than I will ever be—and I have lived 182 long, long years—of thinking through a plan before setting it in place to ensure the best possible outcome. She has taken the initiative I should have given her from the start, and it was wrong of me to place so much responsibility onto her shoulders without fully preparing her for this fight; for all that, I am truly sorry.” Fu hangs his head, and Sabine chides herself for nearly smirking at his guilt.

“Well,” she begins, “I appreciate all that you have told me, but I am not the one you should be apologizing to. Marinette is inside, and you can talk to her there.” Fu smiles weakly, stepping inside the apartment. That’s when she notices:

“What’s in that box?”

Fu stops in his tracks. “I may need to ask for your forgiveness again, but I have one final thing to ask of your daughter.”

  


* * *

  


Tom nearly strangles Fu on sight until Sabine explains the old man came to apologize. Marinette stands up from her seat, skeptical yet intrigued by Fu’s rare appearance outside of his parlor. Tom’s impressed by Marinette’s cool stare and even breathing as Fu repeats everything he told Sabine, given the moment Fu says he’s sorry—

“You had better be!”

_“Tom!”_

—it’s evident his wife has taught their daughter well in the ways of her patented no-nonsense glare, and that their daughter’s work on her own emotional control has proven quite successful. Fu finishes his apology, and there’s nearly a full minute of silence before Marinette responds.

“Thank you for your apology, Fu,” is all she says at first, and Tom and Sabine share a look when they realize she’s not going to forgive him. It takes Fu a little longer to realize the same, but he resigns, sighing in acceptance that he does not deserve it after all that has happened.

“Why have you brought the Miracle Box?” she asks, voice warm but gaze still cold as steel. He looks away for a moment before responding.

“Over the past year and a half, and these past few months especially, you have taken charge as Ladybug in a way I never could have as Guardian. I regret that I doubted you when you made the decision to take matters into your own hands, but after seeing how much your team has grown in strength, both in power and in bonding with each other, and how much headway you have made in your plan to take down Hawk Moth once and for all, I began to reflect on the nature of all my decisions, and I understand that I have never been fit for this position.”

He takes a deep breath, then looks Marinette in the eyes for the first time that afternoon. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng, I am going to relinquish my position as Guardian to you. You will receive full possession of the Miracle Box and all the Miraculous within. However, once I renounce the title, I will remember nothing—an ancient precaution meant to protect the secrets of the Miraculous—but I have prepared for you the tablet, where you and I decoded the missing Grimoire, and my own notes regarding the other Miraculous, their powers, and the enhancing potions, as well as other spells and rituals outlined in the Grimoire. I have the utmost faith in you, and even though very soon I will not even remember your name, I want you to know how proud I am of you. I know you will end this fight, and fix my foolish mistake.”

She continues to stare at him a moment longer, processing his words. She presses her fingers together, takes a deep breath, then slowly commands: 

“Wait. Right. Here.”

She disappears up the stairs for ten painful minutes. Neither Tom nor Sabine knows what to say, so Tom sits down and Sabine busies herself in the kitchen. Fu simply stands in the center of the room, the Miracle Box on the coffee table in front of him, head hung low. Several times, they hear him open his mouth to say something—perhaps another apology, a plea for forgiveness—but the words never come. When Marinette returns, Adrien is with her.

Tom blinks. “He wasn’t up there this whole time, was he?”

Marinette snorts, smiling for the first time since Fu arrived. “No, Papa. I just called him, let him know what just happened, and he came over. We’re ready now."

She steps in front of Fu, and Adrien follows, taking her hand firmly in his own. “Wang Fu, I will accept the position of Guardian on the condition that Adrien Agreste, the current wielder of the Black Cat, becomes Guardian with me.”

Fu’s eyes widen. “I—this is unprecedented… you can’t both be Guardian—”

“As I recall, Fu,” Marinette interjects, “there used to be an entire temple of Guardians.”

Adrien inhales sharply, quickly looking away. Sabine smiles to herself. Her daughter had certainly inherited her ferocity.

“Correct as usual, Marinette,” Fu finally answers. “And it was because of my mistake that such a temple no longer exists. Very well: I will relinquish the title of Guardian to you and Adrien—”

“Equally.”

“—equally. Are you two ready?”

Tom and Sabine step back, unsure of what will happen next. Marinette and Adrien shift closer to each other, hands held tighter than before. She looks to him, and he nods resolutely.

“Yes. We are ready.”

“Then I, Wang Fu, hereby relinquish the Miracle Box, and name Marinette Dupain-Cheng and Adrien Agreste the new Guardians!”

They gasp as Fu’s body burns white, as does the box on the table, a bright flash of light momentarily blinding them all. The light resides, and Fu crumples to the ground. The new Guardians rush to catch him, gently setting him down on the sofa. The Miracle Box ceases to glow as well, revealing that a simple yin-yang symbol had replaced the ornate and intricate carvings around the lid.

Adrien moves to pick up the box, studies it for a moment, then hands it to Marinette. “We may both be Guardians now, but you should keep it.”  
  
“Adrien—” 

“It’s not safe in my house, Bug. Keep it for now. We can share once Hawk Moth is behind bars for good.”

She moves toward him, gently placing her hands on top of his before accepting the box from him.

“Soon, Kitty. Soon.”

Tom and Sabine stand there, smiling, proud, when they notice Fu start to stir in the chair. They walk over to him and help him up.

“W-where am I?” he asks.

“In the right place. Would you like a _pain au chocolat?”_ Tom offers.

They see no recognition in his eyes, but they can tell some pastries sound good right about now.

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, your feedback is greatly appreciated! As this is my first multi-chapter fic, I'd really, really love to hear what you all think so I can better present this story to you, as well as keep the motivation to continue finishing the work. Please, please let me know what you think!
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/fabulously-frenzied)!


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